Divorce to Destiny: Reclaiming My CEO Husband novel Chapter 540

(Mia)

The key doesn’t turn.

I frown, twisting it harder, but the lock won’t budge. I jiggle it, my pulse kicking up.

What the hell?

I step back, staring at the door of Cass’s old apartment like it’s personally betrayed me. She left here months ago, so there’s no reason she should’ve changed the locks.

I know she’s back in Brussels now and as far as I can see she never came near the place while she was back.

Unless she somehow knows I’ve been using it. Maybe Gus found out and tipped her off.

A chill creeps down my spine, but I shove it down. It’s coincidence.

This is probably just a landlord thing. A random maintenance update.

But still. I know how this looks. I know how it will look to grandfather and I’m meeting him here before he leaves this city.

Behind me, footsteps echo through the dimly lit hallway. Slow. Measured. Unhurried.

I don’t have to turn around to know who it is.

“Problem, mija?”

Don Alejandro’s voice slides over me like oil—smooth, but suffocating.

I inhale slowly, plastering on a calm expression before facing him. He looks the same as always—immaculate suit, sharp eyes, the kind of presence that fills a room without trying.

“Locks have been changed,” I say, slipping the key back into my purse. “I guess it was inevitable.”

His gaze flicks to the door, then back to me, unreadable. “Interesting.”

I wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. I hate his silence. It’s far more dangerous than his words.

“It’s not an issue. I’ll find another place for us to meet.”

Don Alejandro hums, stepping closer, his hands clasped behind his back. “No need. I’m leaving this city. I need to lay low for a while. So do you.”

I stop myself from exhaling in relief. “Okay.”

“You think Cass had the locks changed?” he asks smoothly.

I hold his gaze. “Possible but why would she do that now, after all this time?”

“Exactly.”

“Coincidences happen.”

“Hmm.” He studies me for a long moment, then exhales as if disappointed. “You should have learned by now—coincidences are a fool’s comfort. I don’t believe in them.”

A chill snakes down my spine, but I don’t let it show. “What are you suggesting?”

He turns, examining the door like it holds the answer. “That your little friend might know more than she’s letting on.”

“How?”